Cassidy Hamilton sighed before shoving a chocolate into her mouth. Cloying sweetness invaded her taste buds. She offered a quiet moan of pleasure, closing her eyes to enjoy the treat better. It wasn’t the best chocolate she’d ever had, but such goodies were few and far between. Even bad sweets were pretty damned good these days.

Opening her eyes once more, Cassidy studied the page displayed on her illuminated reader for the second time. Little more than a dissident rant from two centuries before, the book was a dry read. Cassidy could barely keep her attention on it. It had been written when Earth’s nations had first been gathered under one banner, finally ending all-out war on her home world. For the most part, peace at long last reigned over the once battle-torn planet.

The author’s diatribe was against the one world government that had been established under the auspices of the One True Religion founded a few decades before. There were the usual copious arguments against taking away free will to decide for oneself if the Church was the real authority on God, or if there even was a God. Cassidy had read such arguments before, much better ones. None of them answered her own private questions on the matter.

The book was geared more towards the military aspect and near dictatorship of the new world order. It especially took issue with the fact that the new regime’s continuing success was tended to by armed soldiers and soulless battle drones capable of wiping out entire cities. The accusations of militant tyranny were at the heart of the author’s arguments, along with the loss of many freedoms. The book in Cassidy’s hand claimed that subsequent revolts following the final war had been quashed with quick ruthlessness, barely disturbing the fearful complacency of the general populace. It presented memos and text communications from government officials to bolster the author’s claims, which Cassidy thought may or may not have been forgeries. Either way, the author of this particular book had no doubt been executed for his anti-unified-government views. Freedom of speech had gone into extinction right along with freedom of religion.

In the chapter Cassidy was now trying to digest, the long-ago renegade seethed over the government’s assertion that all of Earth’s outdated nuclear warheads had been detonated in space. He warned that such was an impossibility, given the smallness of the blasts transmitted through the government-controlled media. He then went on with extensive mathematical formulae to prove his point, formulae that went on for five pages.

It wasn’t that Cassidy couldn’t grasp the weighty data. She played with mathematics the way a child might play with clay. Normally, she’d be scrutinising the computations, looking for errors or little twists in logical application that would serve the author’s needs. In her thirst for real knowledge, Cassidy was relentless. She had no patience with those who slanted results to prove their theories. She liked facts, not fancies. She knew that little wrinkle in her personality was to blame for a great many of her ills.

Tonight she couldn’t concentrate, though. More interesting tomes awaited in the illicit book collection stored in her reader. Knowing about the other books kept her from focusing on the outlawed manuscript she’d been steadfastly trying to absorb.

Cassidy shifted, searching for a more comfortable position in the cramped ventilation shaft. Stretched out on her belly, her stiff, long-sleeved nightgown bunching around her knees, it wasn’t easy to move around. The narrow ductwork glowed silvery-white in the wash of light from her device. It was the only place she dared to read the illegal materials she’d downloaded from her grandfather’s collection before being sequestered in the convent on Europa.

It was still early in the convent’s sleeping hours on the eternal night side of the moon. Cassidy read every night in her hiding place, nibbling on sweets and snacks bought with the modest allowance her grandfather sent her. She’d been stuck on Europa for three years now, her days a monotonous drone of praying, tending crops, scrubbing floors and Bible study. Even the novelty of creeping through the ventilation system to spy on her fellow aspirants and the nuns had worn off. Only the stolen collection of banned books kept her mind sharp and sane. Fortunately, the library was vast. She’d barely sampled the many offerings her grandfather had kept hidden deep in secret computer files.

Cassidy didn’t wonder why her grandfather, so strict and upright with the Church’s teachings, possessed the illegal book collection. His oft-quoted direction to the soldiers beneath him was ‘Know the enemy better than you know yourself.’ She could imagine him studying the words that enthralled her, his thin lips pressed in a bitter line of disgust.

She was halfway through the page once more when she realised she had yet again not digested anything she’d read. The siren call of the book she’d discovered two weeks ago kept her usually thirsty brain from absorbing the current material.

The Church, which had run Earth’s government since Unification, taught that women were innately evil and awash with sin. Cassidy’s preoccupation with her recent discovery certainly bore that out. She’d had no idea what she’d find when she opened the file labelled The Kama Sutra and she hadn’t been able to get the illustrations out of her head since then.

Just like your mother.

Cassidy shook her head and her long, platinum-blonde hair spilled over the reader. No, she had never offered herself to any man. She had never shown a man any part of her devil flesh. She was not the harlot her mother had proved to be.

Yet she could not deny that the urges were there. Right now there was nothing she wanted to do more than look at those pictures of men and women committing sinful acts. Like Eve, she was seduced by the temptation of the forbidden. It whispered to her, distracting her voracious mind from soaking up more intellectual ideas.

Just looking won’t hurt. It’s not like you’re fornicating.

The allure of The Kama Sutra wouldn’t give Cassidy a moment’s peace. Who was she kidding anyway? Even if she did manage to finish this chapter, she knew she would end up opening the other book. Just as she tolerated no falsehoods in her books, she could not bear to lie to herself.

Cassidy gave up the pretence that she cared about how the Church-run North American Bloc had devoured the rest of the world. She tapped the reader’s screen with a trembling finger to change books. She tried not to think about how much easier it got each night to talk herself into viewing the taboo pictures.

She rolled over on her back as the first image came onto the screen. Licking her lips, she scrolled through the illustrations slowly, drinking in the images of men piercing women from every possible angle. When she got to the end of the book, she started over.

Cassidy’s thick cotton panties were soon damp. The scent of her juices teased her nostrils, the aroma reminiscent of the salty tang of the Neuse River back on Earth. She looked at the artwork depicting a man, his devil flesh drawn out in a straight line from his body, inserting fingers into the gaping sex of a smiling woman.

She drew her knees up like the woman in the picture. The stiff fabric of her nightgown slid down her thighs to bunch at her hips. Cassidy drew light circles on her inner thigh with her fingertips as she studied the illustration. Her womanhood flexed with arousal and she bit back a moan. What was it like, to feel something penetrate her body? Did it feel as good as touching the outer parts of her secret flesh? Judging by the smiling participants in every picture, the sensation must be pleasant.

Cassidy’s fingers slid down her soft, downy inner thigh and danced delicately over the moist crotch of her panties. She knew where the spot was, the sweet nubbin of skin that felt best. After only a moment’s hesitation, she touched it.

A warm, melting sensation poured through her core. Cassidy sighed.

The characters in the book were all thin, dark-skinned people with black hair. They looked nothing like Cassidy’s pale, amply curved body. The people of Earth came in so many colours and sizes, a smorgasbord of offerings. It made the young woman wonder how many men would find her attractive, with her rounded buttocks and large breasts. How many of them would want to enjoy sex with someone such as her?

Cassidy certainly didn’t look like the almost sexless twigs venerated on magazine covers back home. Her love for the comfort of snack food since her mother’s arrest had made her a far cry from fashionably thin. Fortunately, a good metabolism and hard physical work at the convent kept her reasonably in shape. When her face warmed in a blush from the thought of a man seeing her naked, it wasn’t because her body embarrassed her.

She scrolled to the next image, her favourite. The man mounted the female from behind, his organ poised just at her opening. Cassidy studied the mushroom-like top of his sex. She wondered what it must be like to have a rod of flesh sticking out from one’s loins. And how would it be to have that rod enter her body? Her breath came quickly and she forced her fingers to move more slowly against her straining bud. The lightning flashes of excitement subsided into a pleasurable hum.

She tried to imagine herself as the woman in the illustration. She thought of being crouched on all fours, feeling the man kneeling between her legs, the hardness of his erect sex touching her entrance, poised to plunge into her body. His hands gripping her hips. His penis slowly parting her wet lips…

Cassidy’s fingers slipped into the leg band of her panties. For only the third time in her nineteen years, she touched bare, sinful flesh. She arched with a soft groan and her fingertips slid against wet warmth. The reader fell from her other hand, landing softly on the cushion of her breasts.

Both hands plunged into her panties, rubbing and caressing her aching sex, spiking desire from the depths of her womb. Cassidy was barely aware of the tears creeping from beneath her closed eyelids as the pressure built within until it cascaded in warm convulsions to leave her sobbing with release. She moaned, her thighs clenched around her hands as her softness throbbed.

Sinner. Whore. Unclean harlot.

The guilt flooded in as the last joyful spasms flexed in Cassidy’s belly. Yet stroking her devil flesh felt so good. Why had God made the most sinful touch also the most pleasurable? Not for the first time, Cassidy’s intellect warred with her faith. So many of the Church’s teachings when it came to sin made little sense. Thinking about the restrictions on intimacies only made her more confused. There was no one Cassidy could trust to share her doubts with, not even her favourite nun, Sister Katherine. The subject was simply too dangerous.

If only she could resign herself to the pure faith that would keep her soul blameless, she lamented. If only her evil, grasping mind would quiet on this one subject and leave her in peace.

* * * *

Captain Tranis didn’t hear Weapons Commander Lidon move to his side, but he could smell him. It was no surprise that the Nobek’s pleasant animal-like musk was all that gave away his silent approach. Lidon was a predator through and through, a prime example of Kalquor’s warrior caste. Tranis inhaled the scent deeply, enjoying the nearness of his clanmate for a brief moment of self-indulgence.

Otherwise, Tranis kept his attention focused on the vid transmission of his quarry. He stared at the alien vessel flying through space as if he could will it into his possession. The Kalquorian spyship had stalked the Earther freight transport for three days now, flying cloaked to avoid detection. The time to take action was upon the captain. He could almost taste victory, and it took a great deal of self-control to not to rush the capture.

Lidon’s deep voice spoke, low and intimate, into Tranis’ ear. “There’s still no sign they’ve detected our pursuit, Captain.”

“How long before they reach Earth’s main security grid?”

“Two days, but we might run into security checkpoints before then. They’ll break communication silence once they get past the largest gas giant. They call it Jupiter, after some ancient Earth god.”

“Earthers and their religious fascinations. It touches everything they do.” Tranis shook his head and darted a glance at the huge planet displayed on another vid, floating at the forward section of the spyship’s bridge. Its reddish striations and swirls were hypnotic in their beauty, a pretty round bauble seemingly suspended on one side of the stark command centre. He paused for a brief second to enjoy the view before redirecting his focus once more to his prey.

A planet called Jupiter. Named for an Earther god. How typical. Was there nothing related to Earth that didn’t have religious connotations? That species’ fanaticism had brought on the war driving Tranis’ people towards extinction faster than the virus had. A year ago, Kalquor had a projected three hundred years of survival left for its pureblood citizens. Now the number was two hundred and seventy-five and falling fast.

The irony never failed to make the young captain wince. The race destroying his was also the Kalquorians’ only hope for survival. It felt like a sick joke.

Ten men manned the bridge of the spyship Tranis commanded. Most bent over free-floating computer consoles, their purple eyes absorbing the green-tinged vid readouts as they gathered information. Forty more men, mostly ground infiltration teams, were on the ship.

At the front of the room, three large vids floated, their combined size spanning the height and width of the chamber. On the left was the monumental gas giant Jupiter, its rust-coloured stripes giving the dimly lit room a reddish hue. In the centre was a diagnostic readout, containing exhaustive information about the planet, their position, ship status and the Earther transport they pursued.

The third vid showed the Earther transport, a blocky unobtrusive spaceship designed to convey supplies and goods. In this case, it also conveyed a certain General Patrick Hamilton. The military leader was in charge of Earth war supplies. He was hurrying home after engaging in talks with the agricultural representatives of the planet Adraf. Millions of Earther soldiers, all looking to spill Kalquorian blood, needed a lot of food. Adraf, a world that thrived on trade, didn’t mind selling to anyone with ready funds, be they Earther or Kalquorian.

Tranis eyed the Earther transport they followed and licked his lips. “So, Commander Lidon, if we’re going to make our move, it will have to be soon?”

“Don’t do it until you’re absolutely ready to commit. If we get any closer, they’ll be onto us.”

Tranis nodded. His spyship was cloaked, which worked well enough to fool the eye. Its movement caused distortions in the space around it, making it easy for the Earthers to detect it in a scan. Being discovered by their enemy would be a very bad thing. Earther courier transports, like the one he currently stalked, were just as heavily armed as their fighters.

Score one for paranoia, he thought. Even Lidon’s lightning-fast reflexes and expertise with weapons wouldn’t make up the difference if they got into a firefight with the larger vessel. Spyships were made for speed and infiltration, not battle.

First Officer Simdow turned from his computer’s green-lined readout. His dark, handsome face was animated with excitement. “The Earther transport is slowing, Captain.”

“Match speed to maintain distance,” Tranis said, his calm tone a counterpoint to Simdow’s nervous pitch. Simdow was capable but young and anxious with inexperience. The whole crew was mostly untried, with the exception of Tranis’ clan. The more experienced Kalquorians were fighting the war now, leaving him in command of raw youth. Nevertheless, his fifty-man crew represented Kalquor’s last, best hope for survival.

Tranis’ stomach churned at the thought.

“What are the Earthers up to?” Lidon wondered out loud. “All stations on alert.”

Tranis looked at his clanmate of six years, marvelling anew at his fortune at having Lidon as his Nobek. The warrior was the eldest of their clan, thirty years Tranis’ senior, but still a young man by Kalquorian standards.

They were nearly the same height and weight, average for their race, colossal in comparison to their Earther enemies. Lidon’s blue-black hair hung straight to his muscular shoulders, left bare by his sleeveless, red-trimmed black formsuit. His clean-shaven, strong-featured face was grim with determination.

“I doubt we’ve been detected,” Tranis said softly. “You’re too good a weapons commander for that.”

Lidon turned his predatory gaze to study Tranis. Blue-purple with slitted pupils, like all Kalquorians’, those eyes missed nothing. “The Earthers have surprised us before. They may not have our technology, but stupidity is not one of their weaknesses.”

“They continue to slow, sir. They’re approaching one of the planet’s moons,” Simdow reported.

Lidon hurried to his own computer vid to study the readout. His slight limp was a remnant of a horrific injury he’d suffered long before Tranis had met him. It kept the Nobek from typical Kalquorian quickness, but he could move fast when he had to.

“The moon is named Europa,” Lidon said, scanning his reports. “We have no intelligence concerning any bases, military or otherwise, on that moon.”

A secret installation? “Does it have an atmosphere?” Tranis asked.

“Oxygen-based, but not the right mix to support Earthers. Temperatures are well below minus two hundred degrees. If they’re using it, the installation would have to be containment-based.”

Simdow matched their calm tones with his own, falling back into his habit of emulating the elder officers. “The Earther transport has dropped into orbit around the moon.”

“Helm, hold our position here,” Tranis ordered. He left his computer podium to join Lidon. “Do you think it’s a trap?”

Lidon’s fingers flew over his computer controls, bringing up readouts faster than voice commands could manage. Despite knowing Tranis could see the information himself, protocol demanded that the Nobek answer his captain. “There is no sign of other ships in the vicinity.” He pursed his lips and growled so only his clanmate could hear, “I don’t like this, Tranis.”

A slight smile curled one side of the captain’s mouth. His voice deliberately challenging, he answered, “I want General Hamilton.”

Lidon twitched, the slight movement the only indication that his hunter’s instincts were aroused. His expression remained grim, but Tranis heard the smile in his voice. “Caution is for Imdikos.”

Tranis clapped a hand to his clanmate’s shoulder in an uncharacteristic show of public affection. “And our Imdiko will have our heads if we rush in blindly. You know Degorsk’s temper.”

Lidon snorted amusement as Tranis resumed his place at the captain’s podium. He knew indeed and a tongue-lashing by their third clanmate was to be avoided as much as Degorsk’s attempts at humour.

Tranis told his crew, “Hold here until the Earther ship’s sensors are blocked by their orbit of the moon. When they’re out of range, proceed in slowly. We’ll enter orbit on the opposite side of Europa.”

Simdow acknowledged, “Yes, Captain. We will enter orbit in two hours.”

Tranis didn’t mind waiting, despite his eagerness to capture the transport and the Earther general travelling in it. He was a patient man, after all.

* * * *

The spyship’s senior officers gathered in the strategy room a few hours later. It was a fancy name for a space that contained a long, low table and several chairs. Lidon sat still and composed at his place on Tranis’ right, but inwardly he chafed at the delay the meeting was experiencing. All but one of the required members had arrived. The Nobek caught Tranis’ eye before glancing pointedly at the chronometer.

“Dr. Degorsk is on his way,” the captain said. “Go ahead and start, Commander Lidon.”

The Nobek rose from his seat and started for the front of the room, ignoring the now-familiar pull of his right leg. The stiffness certainly beat the pain he’d known for several years and he was glad to no longer require a brace to walk around. Degorsk had been right all along about the effectiveness of surgery, though Lidon had thus far avoided admitting it. Degorsk already had more than enough ammunition to tease Lidon with.

He was halfway to the front of the room when the door slid open and Degorsk walked in. The Imdiko nodded at Lidon, though his eyes narrowed slightly at his clanmate.

Lidon offered him a shrug and kept moving towards the head of the table. Degorsk was not just his Imdiko, the clan’s caregiver. He was also the ship’s chief medic, an immensely talented doctor. Exquisitely tuned to discern the slightest hint of physical discomfort from his clanmates, Degorsk had immediately noticed Lidon’s limp was a little worse than usual. Fortunately, Lidon could count on his clanmate to not humiliate him by fussing over him in public. Degorsk knew better.

Of course, the doctor had other ways of embarrassing his predatory Nobek and staid Dramok clanmates. Degorsk took advantage of that as often as possible, hardly caring that such shenanigans often resulted in getting his ass strapped. He lived to get laughs. A much younger Lidon would have been aghast to know he’d end up clanned to a man who delighted in practical jokes and bawdy humour.

At the front of the room, Lidon turned to face the other four men seated at the table. His eyes were immediately drawn to his clanmates. Like most Kalquorians, Tranis and Degorsk possessed the same dark colouring, purple eyes and muscular physiques clothed in black formsuits. The two still managed to look nothing alike.

Tranis’ features were broader and thicker. His beard accentuated his strong jaw. He let his wavy hair fall loose to his shoulders. His stern, no-nonsense expression betrayed little of his youth and spoke volumes of the man’s maturity. Tranis was the epitome of Kalquor’s Dramok breed, a born leader. He had attained the rank of captain faster than any Kalquorian before him, for very good reason. In the end, his age had counted little against Lidon consenting to join his clan.

By contrast, Degorsk’s clean-shaven face was leaner and sharper. His waist-length hair was pulled back in its customary thick braid. A slight smile softened his face. Even now, with the ship on high alert and readying to attack the Earther transport, the Imdiko managed an air of good humour. He couldn’t have been more opposite in temperament to Lidon’s warrior mentality.

That the battle-tested and scarred Nobek had clanned with such a man confounded Lidon’s underlings to no end. As mystified as they might have been, they still had enough sense to not dare to ask why the match had been made. It was just as well. The answer would have confused them even more.

Degorsk was the only person who had ever made Lidon laugh out loud.

The Nobek got straight to business, switching on the vid monitor. “We found this on the moon Europa.”

An image of a transparent containment dome, housing several structures, filled the wall behind Lidon. His audience’s collective intake of breath wafted through the room.

“A secret base,” Tranis said. His eyes were avid on the image.

Lidon addressed the assembled group, which included First Officer Simdow and Weapons Subcommander Osopa. “It’s only about one thousand metres in circumference, not nearly large enough to be a military base.”

“Is there any indication of what they’re using it for?”

Osopa answered, his voice steady despite the excitement Lidon knew the young man felt. “We’re not picking up anything besides a few buildings and agri-fields.”

Lidon enhanced the picture to show the small-scale farm located at one end of the dome. The dome was on the dark side of Europa and a dimmed bank of lighting grids surrounded the crops, no doubt to give the illusion of daylight when turned on.

Degorsk drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “It looks like a civilian colony where they’re growing most of their own food. Hell, it’s barely big enough to be a start-up. Could the transport be dropping off supplies?”

Tranis mused for only a moment before answering. “I doubt a man of General Hamilton’s stature would be acting as a courier. He’s using a transport of that type to escape notice of his comings and goings.”

“None of the Earth defectors have mentioned this base?” Simdow asked.

Tranis shook his head at his young first officer. “There’s no information on this outpost in any of our intelligence. Our records don’t contain one single hint of its existence.”

Simdow pursed his lips in consideration. “Not surprising, considering this is the closest any of our ships has gotten to Earth space. So we’re looking at a top-secret facility that’s too small for any functional use. It’s barely big enough to even be called a colony. It’s strange.”

Lidon said, “The bulk of it could be underground. We won’t be able to tell without scanning from directly overhead.”

Tranis leant back in his chair. “Is your team ready to take that ship?”

Lidon looked at Osopa. The subcommander sat straight up as he addressed the captain. “We’ve been drawing up to the transport gradually, to avoid sensor sweeps of field distortion. As soon as we’re within range, the boarding party will begin our approach.”

Lidon grinned with a born predator’s delight at the younger Nobek’s obvious eagerness. How he wished he could be part of the boarding party. “Once the team has infiltrated the Earther transport, they’ll disable their weapons and communications. Captain Tranis, you’ll have that ship, General Hamilton and Earth’s security grid before this work shift is over.”

“And I’ll get plenty of bodies to patch up, depending on how happy the Earthers are to fight,” Degorsk said with fake cheer. “Thank the ancestors, I haven’t been cursed out by a cranky Nobek in weeks. I was beginning to feel tolerated and that will never do.”

Lidon rolled his eyes at his Imdiko. Tranis and Simdow exchanged a grin while Osopa tried not to look pained. The young Nobek subcommander failed miserably.

* * * *

Cassidy woke in the black void of the vent, having fallen asleep after pleasuring herself to two climaxes. She’d slept in the tight confines before. The vent was no less comfortable than the iron bed in her cell with its granite-hard mattress.

The reader had gone dark in hibernation mode, letting her know she’d slept at least an hour this time. Cassidy couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept an entire night through. Maybe she never had.

As sinful as masturbation was, its relaxing aftermath helped her find elusive slumber. Rest was every bit as much a temptation as the pleasure her touch afforded.

Cassidy could tell she was really awake, the kind of awake that might keep her eyes staring wide open for hours and leave her head pounding with a migraine for the entire day. Her hands were still buried in her panties, still in contact with the avid flesh of her sex. Another orgasm might give her an additional hour, maybe even two, of sleep.

“Forgive me for my sin,” she whispered as she explored her soft, secret folds. “Not for wickedness this time, Heavenly Father. Only to get rest so that I may serve you better.”

Sex with herself in service to God. Now there was a novel approach to damnation.

The petals of Cassidy’s nether regions were soon slick. She imagined a man, much bigger than herself and naked, crouched over her as she pleasured herself. The hot iron of his dark devil flesh touched her intimate parts, ready to join his body to hers.

She paused, one index finger settled over her opening. Did she dare commit this last transgression of penetration? Was it any worse than any of her previous caresses?

If I’m discovered, it won’t make any difference whether I’ve entered myself or not. My hands will be cut off, my sex branded and burned. The punishment will be the same.

Cassidy wanted to know how it felt. Locked away in the convent, she’d never be penetrated by any man. Her own touch would be all she would ever know.

She pressed her finger gently against her secret opening. The tip slipped in, eased by the thick juices seeping from her core. Heat radiated, inviting her to explore her inner regions. Cassidyfraction of an inch.

A harsh buzzing splintered the darkness. Cassidy gasped. Panicked, she scrambled wildly to the vent opening, bursting into her dimly lit cell.

Her tiny bed was right below and she crashed onto its hard surface. Even as she landed there, she was already reaching for the vent cover lying on her thin pillow. Hefting the cold rectangle of metal, she shoved it into place over the shaft opening. Cassidy winced at the high squeal of metal scraping metal.

The moment the vent cover was in place, she jumped from the bed and bounded the single step it took to get to her habit hanging on the wall peg. Cassidy knew her room even in pitch black. It was too small to flail around in confusion. Everything she needed was near at hand.

Her nightgown flew into the air and she jerked on the sleeveless shift of her underdress, followed by the white dress of the convent aspirant. Despite its voluminous folds, it failed to conceal her generous curves.

Cassidy gathered her long, thick hair in a wad at the nape of her neck, holding it in place just long enough to stuff it into her headscarf. She grabbed a pair of socks from the shelf next to the wall peg. After hanging her nightgown, she sat on the edge of the bed and yanked her socks on.

The buzzer blared again and she shot to her feet with a little shriek. She made herself calm, coaxing her hammering heart to quiet.

“Lights up, one-quarter,” Cassidy whispered. Her grim little cell illuminated softly, displaying the forbidding grey walls, ceiling and floor.

She quickly smoothed the sheet and scratchy blanket that covered her bed. Except for the white of her clothes and black of her shoes, the room was a uniform drab grey. It reflected her life since coming to Europa perfectly. If there were a more depressing place in the universe, Cassidy couldn’t imagine it.

With one last look around, she assured herself nothing was out of place in her cell. Besides the bed, peg and shelf, Cassidy’s room contained only a wooden chair, too uncomfortable to be sat on for long. Her clunky black shoes sat before it, but she didn’t put them on. She’d rehearsed the eventuality that she’d be surprised from the vent many times in her mind and a tiny flare of satisfaction warmed her breast.

She stood before her closed door. A voice command would open it. However, Cassidy worried she might be more breathless than being wakened from sleep would account for. Instead of ordering the door, she quickly wiped her sweating hands on her dress. She pressed the button that unlocked and slid it open. Light spilled in from the hallway, illuminating the figure that stood waiting in the corridor. Cassidy’s mouth dropped open in shock as she recognised the bald man before her.

“Grandfather!”

General Patrick Hamilton, resplendent as always in his olive-green uniform, inclined his head in greeting. The rest of his whip-thin body remained ramrod straight. “Hello, Cassidy. I’m sorry to have wakened you at such an hour.” His eyes narrowed as he looked her over. His lips thinned in a disapproving line. “Why are you out of breath?”

Cassidy’s hand went to her head scarf, assuring her it was in place with none of her hair showing. “I thought I’d overslept. I rushed to dress and straighten my room before morning prayers.”

The general’s mouth quirked slightly, a rare concession to humour. “You forgot your shoes.”

Cassidy’s guts loosened a fraction and she looked down at her feet in feigned surprise. “I’m sorry for my appearance, Grandfather. I guess I’m muddled from waking so suddenly.”

“No apology is necessary. Put your shoes on and join me in the chapel.” He smiled, but it wasn’t for her. He looked like a man who’d just won an argument. “I have wonderful news for you.”

Without waiting for her obedient ‘Yes, sir’, he marched down the hall towards the dorm exit.

Cassidy sagged in relief. The plan had worked and on no less than her observant grandfather. She had even scored a few precious seconds by not putting on her shoes, time she could use to settle the wild beating of her heart and make sure all evidence of her sojourn into the vent was taken care of. Smug satisfaction warmed her chest.

But what in the names of Jesus, Mohammed and Moses was her grandfather doing here?

Cassidy hurriedly put on her shoes. She knew better than to keep the general waiting.